


sleep over

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 01:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6883996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Injury leads Alec to Magnus' apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleep over

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to thisissirius on tumblr for the prompt. Enjoy and feel free to leave comments :)

Gentle, as though he were handling a butterfly or newborn child, Magnus lay Alec down on the bed. Alec blinked back up at him, reaching out and then wincing in pain.

“Shh, Alexander. Be still.”

Alec presses a hand to his side, groaning weakly. Magnus moves the hand, kneeling on the bed beside him, and inspects the injury – a cruel tear of skin and flesh, oozing blood. He can see the thin layer of fat, yellow and lumpy, exposed beneath the skin, showing torn muscle beneath.

“Oh, Alexander. Whatever am I to do with you?”

Alec offers up a weak smile. “Bring me tea or something. And get a stele so I can fix this.”

It doesn’t take a genius to see that Alec is in no position to fix anything, and the chances of him managing to sit up enough to drink are even more unlikely. Magnus pauses, rubbing his hands together, figuring out the best way to target the wound.

“Alec? Will you let me heal you?”

Alec hates to be helped. So far he has insisted on every cut, scrape, and sprain being fixed with an Iratze, even though it is easy for Magnus to fix them.

“I – I don’t wish to be in your debt,” he says, and Magnus sighs at the emergence of an old conversation. “I can heal myself, and you can heal me, but I – I cannot heal you, Magnus.”

“I am immortal, Alexander. I do not need healing.”

“This wound is not fatal.”

“Not alone. But you have other injuries – your arm, your face – your hands – and you have not slept for over thirty hours. You were barely able to stand when I found you.”

“I don’t need a prince in shining armour,” he whispers.

“But,” Magnus says, “This is not about need. This is about – it’s about understanding that I care for you, and an extension of that care is that if I can possibly help you, even if it pains me, I want to do that. And I expect no repayment, not gratitude, and no debt.”

“Everything comes with a price,” Alec says, but it comes out as a groan. There is blood upon the silk sheets of Magnus’ bed now, a slow spreading dark stain. Alec shifts, wincing as it pulls the skin of the wound.

“Not love, Alexander – not true love. Even if you feel nothing for me, I’d give my life without regret. Let me help.”

Alec closes his eyes. “Love?” he whispers, a question said with hope so fragile it breaks his heart. He hates that such a beautiful person, endlessly giving and selfless, is so crippled with insecurity over his own worth.

Solemnly, Magnus looks at Alec. “My dear, how could I feel anything else?”

“I – I don’t…”

“Sssh. I have had many years to recognize love when I feel it, and this is the enduring kind. You – you are young. Your heart is still figuring it out. That is OK. But, whilst it figures, please, for the love of god, let me help you.”

Alec nods weakly, and Magnus lets out a sigh of relief. He places a hand over the wound, focusing, letting the warm buzz of magic take over, visualising the skin knitting together, becoming pink and new. Alec lets out a sigh of relief as the pain in his side subsides. Magnus pulls back, arm slightly numb and tingly from the loss of energy.

Alec’s eyes drift shut, and Magnus stands to let him sleep and recover.

“No,” Alec murmurs, reaching for him. “Stay, please.”

So Magnus climbs into his own bed, and for the first time, falls asleep beside Alec lightwood.


End file.
